Oh. My. Gosh.
Have you ever heard of the term “Pulling a Dan?” Probably not. Unless you were in the American Fork High School Marching Band in 1996. If you were, then you definitely knew that term.
Anyways, you know those tubas that wrap around you and you march in parades or in shows with them? Well, they’re called sousaphones and I played one, for one year, in the marching band.
Sousaphones are expensive. Like, really expensive. Like as much as a car expensive.
And I once smashed two of them.
Yes, in my sophomore year of high school, Fat Danny (the name I shall hereby call my younger self for the purposes of this story), once had a great tuba mishap.
We were practicing our sets on the marching band field at school getting ready for an upcoming competition.
There was this girl. I shall hereby call her Abrasive Abigail. She was a fellow tubist and she never did like me much. She was pretty, and blonde, and… abrasive at best. We tried to stay out of each other’s way as much as possible.
Now, if you’ve never had the experience, nay the privilege, of being in a marching band, let me share with you what I remember of it.
- Marching band was not for sissies. Never once did I not have a side cramp. And no, it had nothing to do with the packs of mini-donuts I kept hidden in my oversized cargo pants pockets.
- Marching band was not for giant-children. If you haven’t noticed, I am a giant-child. Not because of my intellect or maturity level (trust me, most children are much more mature), but because of my weird body proportions. I have a huge head, an even huger torso, and these little tiny legs. Basically, a giant child.
- Marching band was not for fat guys. Trust me, it’s already hard enough to feel cool in high school and Fat Danny didn’t go around bragging that he was in marching band.
- Marching band was not for giant fat children. Yes, I know this is a combination of the last two, but I really believe it is that combination that led to the day my shorts split all the way from the front to the back during practice. That was another story all by itself.
- Marching band was not for those who perpetually zig when they’re supposed to zag. As I will now demonstrate.
So where were we. Ah yes, the day of the great tuba mishap.
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